The Woman’s Journal & Literary Notices… I’m Still Learning…
September 11, 2020 by Stephanie Williams
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The Woman’s Journal (1872 and more), out of Boston, is the publication I am happiest to pull for any reason. It is well-organized, with clear headings and a clean layout. If I have research to do, I save it for last as I am frequently inclined to ramble through the columns, and lose track of time. With that said, it’s a splendid thing to be assigned an opportunity to focus on this paper. Each instance of opening it brings me to a new regular feature, and this one brought me to the Literary Notices where I discovered a special treat.
In the first place, the professional tone and straightforward language convey an instant sense of intelligent discussion. This is serious scholarship being presented. The selections that follow only serve to deepen that impression, as listed here:
The Sphinx’s Children and Other People’s, Reason and Revelation Hand in Hand, A Study of Dante, A Tale of a Lonely Parish, Tokology, A Book for Every Woman, Evolution of To-Day
Each title precedes a 200-word thoughtful review, with summary and critique included. The style is witty and educated, and I was wondering which of these might still be available –as they were so very interesting– when I spotted a last review occupying five times as much space as any of the others. To my delight, it was headed as follows:
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow: With Extracts from His Journals and Correspondence. Edited by Samuel Longfellow
It’s a great thing to be able to read someone else’s evaluation of a work with which you are yourself familiar, most particularly if their review was written 134 years ago. There is much to recognize and much to learn in the details of this piece. Interestingly, I looked up the author’s name and found it to be the only one of the editorial and contributor staff to be listed by initials, rather than first name. Further research showed that H.B. Blackwell was really “Henry Brown Blackwell” and the only male member of the staff. The entire review closes with the “last words he [Wordsworth] ever wrote were these:
O Bells of San Blas, in vain,
Ye call back the past again;
The past is deaf to your prayer;
Out of the shadows of night
The world rolls into the light;
It is daybreak everywhere.
The very last interesting bit in this excursion of mine is an item in the adjacent Gossip and Gleanings column which reads, “Rev. Samuel Longfellow has the gratification knowing that the 4,000 copies of his brother’s life composing the first edition, are all sold.”
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